


A Dance with the Devil

by morgellons



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alien Biology, Alpha/Beta/Omega elements, Altered Mental States, Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demons, Energy Vampirism, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fear Play, Feelings Realization, Feelings later on, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hard vore, Horror, Interspecies Relationship(s), Knotting, Love/Hate, Mental Probing, Military Science Fiction, Nightmare Fuel, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Occasional Political Commentary, One Big Trigger Warning, Orgasm Denial, Other, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Praise Kink, Predator/Prey Dynamic, Reader is Not Nice, Sadomasochism, Scalie, Sexual Violence, Shapeshifter Reader, Size Difference, Submissive Kylo Ren, This is so weird I’m sorry, angry smut, angst later on, dom!reader, non-human reader, satanic themes, xenophillia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgellons/pseuds/morgellons
Summary: Such a peculiar, foolish creature. With just a ghost of a touch, your fragile human body writhes beneath me. Your mind so breakable, yet so desperate, curiosity unrelinquishing. Just how much can you withstand?





	1. Captivity

**Author's Note:**

> To those I haven’t managed to scare off with the tags— welcome! 
> 
> Before we continue, I feel the obligation to note certain details regarding our main character that should be brought to the attention of readers. 
> 
> To begin with, this character is quite obviously unorthodox. 
> 
> They are a member of a species with no real concept of gender. Biology-wise, a human may attempt to label one as any which sex, but every individual functions in the same manner. There is no sexual dichotomy or behavioral differences save for caste ranks, and such concept is foreign to them. It is only comprehended on a surface-level. Thus, a variety of pronouns, some rather derogatory, will be thrown about. No offense is taken by this, and for the most part, it is only a fault on behalf of the other characters in attempt to humanize something that is clearly unlike them.
> 
> With this in mind, it is important to note that the decisions made by the main character are driven by culture, instinct, and social expectations. This includes both violence and extremely dubious actions. I do not intend for this story to remain purely grimdark. Until then, the plot progression will remain rather questionable. Please feel free to ask any questions.
> 
>  
> 
> [Ambient music if you will.](https://youtu.be/MmBOmWPzUeM)

  
You hadn’t a clue that could have led you to estimate the duration of your unconsciousness. The return to your senses was gradual, and for a while, you remained in the state between wakefulness and sleep. Your limbs were heavy, and your mind felt as if it had been glossed over with opaque metaphysical veil of sorts. When the moment came, you awoke all at once.

You soon found that your surroundings were foreign. Groggily, you peeled open your eyelids, and your sight grew quickly accustomed to the darkness. The absence of light was perhaps the only comfort with which you had been graced. You would have preferred a slightly warmer temperature, however. The floor you lay upon was far too chilly for your liking.

The room was small. Had you fashioned a space like this into a temporary home, it would be almost satisfactory. That is, if the number of sides to the room was a much smaller one. The near-circular shape was rather unnerving. There were no corners among which you could possibly seek refuge. It was octagonal, to be precise. From what you could see while remaining a near-perfect stillness, the side which faced you was a means of entrance. The blast door was heavily armored— you would not be able to pry it open. To your left and your right were what seemed like control panels. At a glance, the technology appeared unfamiliar and somewhat archaic.

A grunt escaped your lips as you braced against the floor. Though now at your feet, your legs still wobbled, and your outstretched hand met with a cold, metallic surface. It appeared to be a chair, or perhaps a place of rest. No, it was unlike any chair you had ever seen. Nothing about its design connoted a purpose for comfort. The device was comprised of some sort of steel, you presumed. Its edges were sharp, and the entire platform was tilted to a compromising angle. You stepped nearer, now tracing your claws lightly down its side.

Restraints— and there were four of them. It was clear now that the device was used for restraint and seemingly, torture. Its design appeared to be practical exclusively for use on four-limbed bipeds. It would likely be inadequate for you, given the rather modest dimensions.

Cautiously, you circled the perimeter. Your sharp nails clacked against the floor, muscles aching with each step. You hissed at the pain, but quickly shook it off. You were imprisoned, or so it appeared. You could not afford to pay much care to your physical state. Frustration bubbled in your chest as you searched your memories for any sort of recollection regarding the current situation. They yielded nothing prior to your arrival from darkspace. The period between then and the present was a blank in your mind— a blank you were now desperate to fill. It was a flaw within your near-eidetic memory.

You balled your hands into tight fists. Snout raised upward, you flicked your forked tongue out and were immediately met with an essence you knew all too well. It was pungent— salt and blood, coupled with a sweet, savory concoction of amino acids that coated over harsh ammoniac undertones. A growl rumbled in your throat. It was undoubtedly human.

An unlikely surprise, to say the least. You were without a doubt that the species would make it this far out, being the vermin they are, but you didn’t necessarily expect the immediacy of proximal contact.

You were in unknown territory, you had no weaponry other than natural defenses, and for once, you seemed to have lost the upper hand. Much to your dismay, you would not be able to demonstrate apex performance if a “situation” were to arise, given your current lethargic state. All there was to do for the time being was wait. You could only wait in the dark cell you had mostly familiarized yourself with. You would wait until your opposing party made the next move.

Such rash creatures— soon they would regret the decision of imprisoning you. Yes, you were the newcomer here, but the denizens of this galaxy will then learn their place. They must, if any sense of self-preservation remained in their primitive minds.

Perhaps you will have some fun with your naïve captors. Not too much fun, and not for too long, mind. You had a reputation to upkeep.

Besides, the Elders always warned you not to play with your food.


	2. Obligate Carnivore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitors are always welcome into your humble abode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mental probing, altered mental states, very graphic violence, death
> 
>  
> 
> [Some ambient music to go with if you’re interested in that.](https://youtu.be/qh_o19X5D2g)

From the outside of your cell, you could hear soft footsteps. Their clicking panned in and out, then the sound halted, as did the being responsible for them. As far as you knew, you were no longer alone— at least not within a six yard radius. Your ears perked, straining for another sign of locomotion. Surely it was bipedal, as according to the rhythmic gait cycle. The cadence of the pacing was quick. You huffed. Your guest was either short of stature or incredibly nervous.

It appeared that you would have a dash of action soon enough. You dropped slowly to your forelimbs. Now assuming a quadrupedal stance, you crept to the middle of the cell. Behind the large metal chair you hid, sitting keenly upon your haunches.

With your eyes narrowed and your muscles tense, you focused your senses on the blast door. It was just about time. Even with a pulse ever escalating, your body remained perfectly still. The air seemed to hang heavy— tepid even— with anticipation.

You had had a frightfully long trip. Perhaps if this situation had not caught you at such a daze, you would have been almost appreciative of the circumstances. There were obviously plenty of potential meals nearby. Just the thought of it shot adrenaline coursing through your limbs. Of course, it was only a necessity, but it would be a place to start. Your ship was likely detained, disassembled, or destroyed by now. What a shame, if so. She was a fine piece of technology. You would likely need to start from scratch.

From the looks of it, your cell was a part of a sort of military installation. The aesthetics were sharp and industrial— certainly this was no civilian zone, no matter the species. You may have sensed humans, but the little architecture you have been exposed to so far nearly said otherwise.

Although, it was also entirely possible that this was but a matter of variation from one human civilization to the next, especially given the detail that these particular humans reside in a completely different galaxy than the locations one would normally come across them. It was also likely you were on board a space vessel of sorts. The centerpiece was bolted down securely to the floor, though this may have been simply a precaution in preserving structural integrity when the angle was adjusted, given the hinges near its base. The door to your cell was particularly notable, however. They were fairly armored blast doors. Blast doors are essential, mainly to larger starships and military facilities. Yet, the doors, as well as the overall design of the cell, maintained a level of sleekness and sophistication— far too much for any ordinary terrestrial base. Nevertheless, if you were correct about any of it, there should be minimal difficulties in obtaining the necessary resources for the continuation of your mission.

You jolted as the hiss of the doors swept the room. Eyes narrowed at the unpleasantly bright light that flooded from the doorway, you veered backwards to maintain your presence within the darkness. From your position, you could see the silhouette of what you assumed to be a human, or possibly a similar race.

The doors shut behind your visitor, this drenching your cell in black once more. It stepped forward, and the dim lights which rimmed the very tops of the walls cast a faint shine onto the biped’s armor. Yes, it was covered from head to toe in glistening white armor, a scarlet pauldron upon the shoulder, and black accents in fabric wherever joint mobility was required. That provided various points of weakness. How convenient it was.

The armor masked so much of the scent, but regardless, it still lingered— saccharine and remarkably pungent. Your suspicions were all but confirmed.

_Come closer…_

The soldier flinched, now slowly raising a weapon—a firearm that conspicuously matched with the black and white uniform. How cute.

You advanced, clicks following your nails against the the alloy floor. The soldier was now changing aim erratically, searching for a target. “Show yourself, creature,” he commanded, the waver in his voice evident.

A growl rumbled in your throat, and he froze in place. You reached out in long tendrils, then pushed fervidly into his mind.

You were met with a mess of information. Overlaying it all was a heavy drape of panic. A concoction of hormones and neurotransmitters cascaded through his mind, yet he remained still. The dead silence seemed to drop below even that. The only audio that remained, besides the occasional shallow breath, was that residing in a mental plane.

The man was an infantry officer. As you shuffled through his thoughts, you could not find a name— only an alphanumeric designation in place of one. Alas, you were correct in your predictions. You were in fact in the presence of human troops, though unlike what you deemed as typical. As you pushed further, your probe met a haze. Venturing in any path yielded the same blurred results. You scowled when the waves of static pummeled your attempts over and over. The human was far too shaken to maintain the desired cognitive state.

You drew away such that only a partial presence encroached upon his mind. There had been very few opportunities where you had been able to practice your telepathy. Only now did you regret it. You rose to your feet, seething. You would earn your place soon. Perhaps you struggled with remote viewing, and your mental probes were far too belligerent to be fully effective, but with new horizons came new possibilities. It would be your first learning experience in this galaxy.

Subduing the human would not be unwise, you concluded. You crept toward him, staying nearly beyond his range of vision. He caught sight of you, whipped around, and just as he aimed his blaster at your nose, you shot into his mind. The waves you used were slow, deep, and penetrating. You hiked them louder and louder, until the human’s mind slowed as well. The haze began to fade away. His feelings no longer radiated as blindly and intensely as before, yet they were in much finer tune— with the ability to flow outward and interlock if there was an counterpart with which to reciprocate. He now had a blankness to him, his mind easily susceptible to being bent and molded to your will.

You were so close now. If you were to reach out with your arm, you would almost touch the man. He was much calmer, and he slowly seeped into a daze with each long, sweeping wave. Your lips twitched, tongue running across the tips of your fangs, but you restrained yourself.

The human’s arm fell slack by his side, and he then seemed to slouch. Your energy loomed over the tiny being, like an ominous storm cloud on a windy, dry mineral planet.

_Remove your helmet. I wish to look on your face, human._

You slipped the order into his mind. It echoed back and forth, then after several seconds, the man raised his left hand to his face. He paused, then slipped off his helmet in one slow, smooth movement.

The aroma from earlier filled your lungs, and you shut your eyes. So strong, almost overwhelming, was the aroma. It was then that you began to understand the appeal of these organisms. You huffed sharply and curled your fists.

Upon opening your eyes again, you were met with a pair of dull, grey ones. His gaze rested directly on you, yet it was entirely unfocused. Blank, as you recalled.

You came even closer. The human seemed to be a young adult. What appeared to be previously slicked, umber hair was now disheveled with a sheen of moisture. Stands stuck to his round and sickly pale face. His soft breath collided with the plating on your abdomen. You shivered.

The man’s face was so soft and small in your hand. You ran your thumb over his cheek a few times over before bringing your other hand forward and wrapping it loosely around his neck. His reactions were minimal, and his body was fairly limp in your hold.

_Success._

You pulled away from his mind. There was no need to spend any more energy exerting such a level of control over the human’s neural state. He was quite literally in your clutches. You licked your chaps, and tightened your grip on his throat ever so slightly. The additional pressure made wonderful deep indentations in his fragile skin— each of your claws embedded within their midpoints.

“Now,” you grumbled, tilting his head back, “with whom are you affiliated, mammal?”

Slowly, he blinked twice, then his eyes flicked across your face. “First… First Order,” he slurred, gulping.

Your hands relaxed on the man. The First Order— such an imposing title for a human military organization. You grew eager to learn more of the elusive members who held you captive in a dark, cold, and relatively tiny cell. They would surely feel the wrath of a Draconian Elite, but there was bound to be a larger selection of uses for a presumably plentiful population. That is, besides the demands of the Agenda. You tapped a claw on the soldier’s forehead. Then of course, a number of them would be necessary for sustenance, and others would simply be unsuitable for either of these purposes.

A cold ring pressed into your hip. Before you had a chance to react, a searing hot blast struck through your soft hide.

The impact sent you reeling backward. Hissing, you curled inward in pain and prepared for evasion, but not without managing to land a blow on the human first. Your outstretched talons caught on his delicate cheek and tore through it in a swift swipe. The man shrieked in horror as he threw his hands up to his face. Red began to pour through his fingers, which then streamed onto his otherwise flawless chestplate.

You scampered across the room to assume your position behind the chair once more. You watched attentively as the man withered in agony.

He collapsed to his knees as you nursed your wound all the while. You allowed yourself only a few more seconds of rest before clambering up the metal chair. You heaved yourself to the top while your messy footing brought up the back. Perching upon the headrest, you situated your hindquarters for proper momentum, stare fixed on the injured man.

The man was quickly reminded your occupation in the cell with him. His hands left his face and he wobbled to his feet, blaster clenched in both of them. He shook so erratically that his aim would be completely unreliable even in close quarters. You wiped your wound with a fist, growling.

“Stay away from me,” he breathed, his mouth swelling and limp at the edge. He managed to smear the blood across nearly half of his face.

“Pathetic creature, that is what you are,” you seethed, shifting your weight. You would not entertain this nonsense for much longer.

“No… no, you’re wro—“

You launched yourself from the platform. With your kinetic force, you threw the man against the wall. It interrupted his hasty refutation. Sharp talons dragged against sleek plastoid composite in a struggle to find a surface on which to cling. The human screeched as he thrashed about, trying to shake from your grip.

“ _Silence_ ,” you shouted, pressing your thumbs into his neck, “and stop struggling. There is no point to it.”

His tormented cries only grew louder. You threw your jaws around his throat, and steadily sank your fangs into him. Warm, salty iron seeped into your mouth. You groaned with the sensation.

As the man tugged at your spiny hackles in a desperate attempt to draw your snout away from his mangled throat, you were struck with a barrage of vicious kicks to your belly.

It did not hurt. His efforts were almost amusing. There was not a single thing the human could do to resist, but he continued to squirm and squirm, wasting whatever remained of his energy. You had not even a chance to reap any of it for your own needs.

Then suddenly, his heel struck your blaster wound. You yelped, then clamped your jaws shut on reflex. The man’s neck snapped clean following a gurgled scream. The iron juice was now flowing freely down your snout. You removed yourself from his throat. He spasmed, then fell limp. You tossed the body to the ground.

You stood still for a few moments, shivering as the oxide buzz rippled down your body. When the rush began to die, you returned to the deceased human, lapping at the puncture wounds. You huffed at the return of the tingly wavelets. They spread from your neck, to your chest, then through your limbs.

Blood alone could not satisfy your appetite. You sank to the floor and inspected the body. The armor was still very much intact. Gripping the edges of the chestplate with one foot keeping his head stationary, you ripped the armor from the man’s body and threw it aside.

Then, you tore into him. The sticky fluid drenched your snout and your limbs as you rummaged about the assortment of innards until your nose hit bone. Raking your jaw underneath them, you snapped an array of ribs into fragments, exposing even more organs. You sighed heavily as you slopped through the bloody, disfigured mess of a human. At last, you found what you were looking for— a huge, deep maroon mass that spanned the length of the ribcage. You snatched the liver up between your teeth, gnashing it to pieces hungrily, then gulped it down. The taste was meaty, flavorful, and just so lovely— the chewy, elasticity only enhancing the experience. One big, long wave of ecstasy whisked over you, lingering as a pleasant warble in your mind and your chest. You purred, tempo matching with the buzz.

When you were finished, you stood, hovering above the scene you had made. You made a long, deep huff.

“Your kind are bacteria. If you are not conquered by the Agenda, you will be eliminated,” you growled, wiping a strand of intestinal lining from your jaws with a flick of a claw.

There will be more where he came from, you knew for certain. 


	3. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps you had underestimated him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mental probing, graphic description of a corpse
> 
>  
> 
> [Ambient for this chapter.](https://youtu.be/l3TlVDHf9zQ)

Significant time had passed since the humans attempted any interaction with you. Without any indication of time, it was rather difficult to know for how long it had been for sure, but you estimated three days or so.

The cadaver had begun to smell putrid. The smell was strong and unappetizing, but there were no chemicals you were unfamiliar with. Bloated and discolored was every extremity in shades of brown and soft green. Its wide, glossy stared out at you constantly, mouth also hanging wide open. The expression was unnerving, and after a while, you could no longer tolerate it. You gouged them out.

Obviously, none of it was longer edible. You could try, of course, but that’d only result in a terrible bellyache. You may need to if deprived of a food source for too long. Pacing the cell, you scowled. Imprisonment by these humans was awfully boring— no torture, no experiments, no slavery, just nothing besides a free meal and a shot to the side. It was only what one could expect from creatures of lower intelligence. It was pitiful, given what would have transpired if the roles were reversed. You huffed in amusement. The fear and pain would roll off in giant waves, and the human would get that look in their face— the one they always would get. It would submit to you, and you could take everything— all of the life energy, all of the feelings, and the iron juice. With just a thought, you could almost taste its warm silky flavor on your lips.

You felt a presence, at last. It would be somewhat inhuman to allow the dismembered soldier to rot inside with you for too long. You would have guessed it was another soldier, but this felt different. The aura was incredibly bold and heavy. There was a deep, fiery turbulence to it. Shielded by a layer of what was almost overconfidence lay pain and bitterness. It was so subtle at first glance, but the detail leapt out at you with closer inspection. You had no doubt that this was a human. Only humans are this emotional. It is a great weakness of the species. This one in particular, however, had a certain quality that puzzled you. Its energy was strong and lacked purity— that always sparked interest, but it was separate from that. The only comparison you were able to draw was from that of the mental abilities of your own species. Only a whiff of this human had you mesmerized. This was sure to be interesting.

You assumed your position behind the chair when you heard subsequent heavy footsteps. Excitement bubbled in your chest. You were to be graced with something much more than the petty kill from earlier.

The blast doors greeted you with a whoosh. You stood your ground, ears pricked. Just by the sound of it, you knew this human was much larger than the soldier. The same whoosh swept the cell soon after. You licked your lips. All closed in.

Blaring light swept the front half of the cell. You lurched back at the sudden change of luminance, shaking your head and blinking to regain focus. The light was rather dim— certainly not bright enough to invoke the reaction you had. You huffed softly in annoyance.

The light did, however, allow for a proper, full color view of your visitor. It was a tall human, yielding perhaps a foot or so less than your own standing height. There was no need for light, you found, as the entirety of the human’s body was covered in black cloth.

They were always such shameful creatures— perpetually feeling the need to cover themselves up. At least the soldier had worn armor. Armor had a definite purpose. You could easily tear through this one’s robes like a blade through paper.

Like the other, the human donned a helmet. It seemed that you would need to coax this one out as well, if you cared to see its face without having to use physical force. There should not be much need for it, given the surprising lack of defenses. It was most certainly not a soldier like the other— no, it nearly had the appearance of one who practiced a religion while maintaining some sort of status with both the military and said religion.

As you stepped closer, still keeping to the shadows, the distinctive tenor rolling off of your visitor grew stronger. You felt a sharp pull at the back of your mind. It was small, but constant and dense. This was a surprise, most defiantly. You jutted the probe away and pushed, shooting out to the source. Just as you had presumed, there truly was something peculiar about your visitor. Your dark tendrils coiled around his mind, encompassing it within your grasp. Yes, it was surely a male, you could see clearly now. He shoved your snares backward, but you only squeezed tighter with each prod.

His physical reaction was subtle, but you quickly noticed his cracks in composure. His fists were now balled tightly. His gaze was no longer searching your half of the cell for movement, no, it had now dropped to the floor in concentration. Oh, how you wished to come closer— to feel his soft, warm neck in your hands. You must not let yourself rush ahead.  
  
You attempted to push in further, but you were met with a wall. Unlike the soldier’s haze, this was a solid, set barricade. You huffed, pulling away just slightly. He was playing smart now. A focused shield would be much harder to penetrate. Simply pushing you away was an unrealistic defense strategy.

The telepathic struggle paused. You lingered, waiting for the human to advance in some way. You could hear him and see him taking long, deep breaths. You doubted he had experienced anything like this— at least at such a magnitude. There must be others like him, but of what you knew, any sort of relevant psychic manifestation was uncommon in humans. But of course, you would still need to investigate this galaxy more thoroughly. You had not exactly gotten much of a chance— or a choice for that matter— to look around.

Alas, your stubborn human refused to make the next move. You rose to a bipedal stance with a huff. Slowly, you stalked forward until you were near the line in which the two halves of the cell was distinguished. You poked your snout into the light, keeping the rest of your body obscured in your shady portion of the cell.

His gaze met yours almost instantaneously. His eyes, of course, were obscured by the mask, but it could only hide so much of his thoughts and feelings. These creatures were fairly easy to read.

As you prepared to draw nearer, the man’s hand shot forward, outstretched, and you found that your limbs were frozen in place. A blunt jab at your mind ricocheted past, to which you growled. You would not allow such a level of humiliation. You broke from his hold with a swift stroke and swept the probe from your mind. The man’s arm dropped to his side and you stepped aside.

“Not even a proper greeting. How insulting,” you spat at him, eyes narrowed. You began to pace a semicircular path around your visitor, but allowed him his proper space.

“You murdered my officer,” he said with a hint of hesitation. He seemed to be using a modulator to alter his true voice. There was no point to use it with you. You were more than aware of human weaknesses. The amplification was not impressive to you in the slightest. If anything, it was laughable. One can hardly hope to hide their own humanity, for better or for worse— and your people were experts in snuffing it out.

“ _You_ sent a soldier, armed only with a small firearm, into a cell containing a starved predator. Tell me, human. What exactly were you expecting to happen?”

Not very sharp, this one seems to be.

He was staring down at the tattered corpse in disgust. Having been left to deteriorate for some time now, the remains reeked horribly. You were simply acclimated to the stench of rotting flesh, and could only imagine the shock of initially experiencing it.

“He was exceptional.”

“ _Expendable_ ,” you whispered.

You closed in by a foot in distance. The human stood his ground, his hand now resting upon a rod of metal which was hooked onto his belt. “Stay back,” he demanded as he studied your every step.

“I do not take orders from my evolutionary inferior,” you barked, halting in your course. You glared at the human, who appeared as self-assured as ever. It angered you. You would hate for the encounter to end prematurely. He was so noteworthy, yet entirely uncooperative.Resistance will only be the downfall of the species as a whole. They cannot defy their destiny.

As you rushed toward him, the man drew the rod from his belt in a flurry of gleaming red, and you were brought to only an arm’s length away from him. Heat radiated from the pillars of light, which formed a cross altogether. You kept just enough distance to avoid a severed limb.

“Bars of… plasma,” you hissed. Very interesting, indeed. Such a weapon was dangerous to both the target and the wielder, but certainly creative to say the least. You had underestimated him.

“You passed though darkspace,” he interjected, the plasma sword still pointed at you. “How?”

“I could ask the same of you, mammal,” you replied smoothly. “But I am no fool. The question of how is irrelevant. Life finds a way. Especially… yours.”

He was so close now, you then realized. You could see each detail with clarity— the silver lining his mask, the ruffled cowl that draped around him, and lest you forget, that wonderful laden aura of his.

“You will give me answers. If not this time, then the next,” the human declared.

“As will you.”

He started backward to the door. For not even a moment did his gaze leave your figure. He was right to do so. You would take any opportunity he left to gain an advantage.

It was not until the blast doors flew open that he finally lowered his weapon. Alas, the human’s visit had come to an end— although he did leave you with certain implications.

“You are forgetting something.” Towering smugly over it, you gestured to the body. You licked your lips as he paused.

“I won’t fall for your tricks, reptile.”

You huffed. He left it there. 


	4. Not Afraid of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I want is just a taste, little thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape, bloodplay, mental probing, violence, slightly altered mental states.
> 
>  
> 
> [Ambient for the first few paragraphs.](https://youtu.be/5D9hlddUm3c)

Countless hours of boredom were put to a pause when two human men came to your cell. They were not soldiers— officers, rather, as suggested by their dark pigmented uniforms and brisk cut. Both wore masks over their mouths and gloves up to the elbow. You studied their sharp, unsteady movements with hungered enticement. Even with such nervousness, the men entered with resolve and purpose, a strange roll of synthetic material carried by the second one.

There appeared to be no form of weaponry wielded by the men. It was bold choice considering the fate of their unfortunate comrade. You held your ground as they stood adjacent to the body, stares not straying from your distant form. As if matters could not be more intriguing, a heaviness rolled over you and drenched the premises. Your gaze snapped back to the doorway and met with the charcoal-robed human with whom you had already become acquainted in a rather graceless encounter.

His sword was already drawn, its crackles and hisses echoing within the chamber. The human’s appearance roused a level of alarm and precaution into the smaller ones. It was amusing, the way the two flashed their eyes to feet and suddenly straightened in posture. Their behavior made it very clear that the tallest one vastly outranked them in the occupation they shared.

The blast doors shut, and the tall one pointed his fiery red sword in your direction. His presentation was far more forward as it had been the first time. This was likely because this time, he had an audience.

“You have returned,” you stated, almost plainly. “Back for more, are we?” At your feet, you crept leisurely forward. The smaller humans glanced anxiously at their superior officer, to which he simply waved away. His attention was purely concentrated on you.

  
“Don’t even consider going after my men,” he snapped, taking no enjoyment in your deadpan snark. The tip of the fluctuating plasma beam jabbed at your nose when you took a step too close.

You recoiled just enough to stay out of his range. “An empty threat,” you smirked, peering down the length of the sword and squinting at the brightness it emitted. “You wouldn’t dare it. Striking me down.”

He seems to tense at your conclusion, grip tightening on the weapon. Behind the brooding figure, the small humans unraveled the vinyl roll. It was a body bag, of course. They were the cleaning crew, and the dark warrior was overseeing that there would be no further incidents.

“Do not worry yourself, human. I hold no interest in them,” you mused, looking to the two as they transported what was left of the soldier, wincing at the stench all the while. “It is about time the mess was taken care of. Filthy.”

The man remained silent until his subordinates had filled the body bag. They hurried out, the reeking mass carried haphazardly between them. When the doors shut, he lowered the sword to his side.

You felt as if you were performing a human idiosyncrasy by talking to yourself, as your guest had failed to respond for quite some time. He simply stood, brooding and staring at you as if you were a hidden spelling error within a wall of text. “Where is your human hospitality, might I ask? I deem it necessary to inform you that I am growing fairly hungry, and you are not providing me with many options,” you purred, running your tongue over your chaps.

“I will arrange for food when you give me answers,” the human boomed suddenly. It was satisfying to receive a verbal response, and it occurred to you that negotiations with lowly officers present would be unwise of him if you were to exploit a newfound weakness.

Something else occurred to you. He hadn’t attempted to push into your mind as before. Perhaps he found the efforts to be futile, and rightfully so. Soon he will find interrogation to be a waste of effort as well. Slowly, you asked, “What answers do you seek?”

“I’d thought we should start small. What is your name, creature?” He asked his first question with confidence. It was a detail most basic in communications between two sentient, intelligent beings.

“My name,” you snickered, “would be impossible for you to pronounce while possessing such a primitive vocal tract and limited articulation.”

Though this was true, it would only be necessary to give the human a name to call you. “However, I suppose you may address me by my title reserved for interspecies negotiations,” you continued.

The Latinized name left you lips as a whisper, and a ghost of a touch whisked atop his thoughts. Not prominently enough to indicate hostility, but certainly just enough to cultivate unsettlement in the human. “You are?”

He watched you attentively as you paced in small semicircles, then replied rigidly. “Kylo Ren, commander of the First Order.”

The answer seemed hesitant, and you wished deeply in that moment to read his facial expressions. “Commander. How convenient. I too, am something of a commander.”

The commander stepped forward. The crimson blade still rumbled sharply in his grasp. “And what do you command?”

“That is not of your concern,” you scoffed, drawing nearer. He stepped away instinctively as you flanked him. Very much as you expected. “I assure you.”

Kylo Ren raised his blade tentatively. “I insist,” he shot back. He was testing your patience.

“Tell me your true question, mammal. I have grown tired of these formalities,” you grumbled, inching closer to him.

“Where do you come from and what is your intent,” the commander barked, sweeping his weapon dangerously close to your face. A cool puff of air shifted by the strike brushed the surface of your facial scales.

You snorted after he realized you had successfully shepherded him fairly close to one of the obtuse corners. Between you now was only the plasma blade, which you observed to be quite unstable. You withheld from advancing further.

“No need to be afraid. So long as you keep your promise,” you whispered, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“I am not afraid of you.”

“This,” you gestured as the sword, “suggests otherwise.” You licked your chaps as he shifted at your words.

Commander Ren was silent for a long time, and you allowed him that time. You did not probe and you did not advance. You stood in your tracks.

The plasma screeched as it disappeared into its hilt, but his thumb still rested upon the activation plate. “Tell me,” he said.

You contained your usual huff. He had let his guard down. He had trusted you, even if just in the slightest. It was a mistake. A grave, and very stupid mistake.

“Certainly, _Commander_.”

You slapped the hilt from his hand, and the weapon was sent flying to your left. Before it could meet the floor, Kylo Ren’s hand shot out in its direction. You hissed in frustration. He would not get it back so easily. You snached his hand and sent sharp tendrils that pierced into his mind. He jerked back at the sudden pain, and the weapon clinked to the ground. Your claws dug into his tiny fist as he reeled into the corner, his back hitting the wall with a loud thud.

His struggling was far more pronounced than that of the soldier. Kylo Ren was strong, but so were you. Your free hand found his neck, and you squeezed lightly, savoring the muffled sound he made with more applied pressure. You huffed a long huff as you brought your snout below his jaw.

Kylo Ren struck you in the eye with his unrestrained fist. You roared as blotches of black and white clouded your vision and a hot sting flushed the area. As he pulled back for another blow, you threw the man to the floor.

He yelped as you lept down to him, landing squarely on his upper back. You nursed your puffy injured eye momentarily, then wrapped both hands around his neck.

Oh, how you could feel the panic flowing outward. Now that you had the commander in the most compromising position, he had become nearly incapacitated. You could do as you wished. He twisted underneath your grip, but your weight kept him pinned, restricting most movement. This one was a bit smarter than the last human. He was quick to realize that his efforts would be wasted once his fate had been sealed.

Thus, he no longer struggled. Nor did he use tricks. How kind of him— for you certainly would.

You wanted to see that scared little face as you had with the soldier. As your fingers searched underneath the helmet, soft curls brushed past them. One claw traced across his bare skin, summoning a muffled gasp. You repeated the motion, to which he suppressed any sounds. He would not want to show any more weakness, now would he— but you had seen enough. Only one touch was ruining.

You had felt the spike in the energy fields. It was more than exhilarating, and you were confident he had felt it too. Putting up a façade for this long was tiring, surely. You returned your hand to the same place and tugged the cowl down. Underneath was a snug neck seal, which you snuck your talon into and tore cleanly through.

There it was, a bare patch of skin. The pink imprints encompassing it were the doings of yourself. It was evidence of the dozens of blood vessels which dilated in response to the pressure you had applied. That, aside from a few tiny dark spots, were the only imperfections upon the pale tissue.

You marveled at the mammal as it heaved underneath you. Had you been allowed the chance with the soldier, perhaps you would have done the same. You could not deny that humans were fascinating, no matter how primitive they were. They were not aware of how many dozens of smooth, metallic ounces of liquid coursed through their body every moment, and how desperate you were to release it.

The human pricked at your mind. You batted it away, annoyed. “Careful, now,” you whispered to him. “I thought we were done with that.”

Running your claws down the exposed skin, you continued to peel away the thin layers of fabric that shielded him. You brought your snout to the most flushed patch. Biting gently, you let the crimson iron soak through your teeth and stain your lips. It dribbled down your chin and dampened the human’s clothing. The buzz filled your stomach and your muscles relaxed. Underneath you, the human jolted. You gave him no attention as you savored the ecstasy.

A sharp needle ripped at your consciousness, snapping you back into alert focus. He pummeled at the weak point, stealing away whatever pleasure you had just experienced.

“ _Enough_ ,” you growled, bringing your face beside his. You pulled his helmet up, then slammed it into the floor. The probe withdrew immediately, leaving your head clear. He groaned weakly through the modulator.

Though you didn’t use half of your complete strength, you were at the minimal damage you had inflicted. It held together well, thankfully. Any harder, and he would have definitely gotten a serious head injury. That would not be very fun. It would defeat the purpose.

Your thumb found a button on the underside of the helmet. You huffed in satisfaction as you pressed them, the helmet emitting a soft hiss as it released into your hands.

“My— you are a _very_ pretty one,” you murmured, huffing in the mammalian musk and looking him over. His pale face was flushed red and his black curls stuck messily across his damp forehead. The human’s features were sharp and pronounced, offering yet more contrast from the round-faced little soldier. One side of his face was a deeper shade of violet and began to swell. Red trickled from the temple. His helmet must not have had sufficient padding— how unfortunate for him.

Kylo Ren’s mouth hung open slightly, and his wide brown eyes searched your face in a dulling shock. The impact must have rendered him in a subtle state of lethargy. His movements were small and delayed, but his gaze did not leave you.

You trailed a thumb down his lip. It was pink and soft to the touch. Humans were always so pink. Especially in sensitive places. He shuddered when you brushed your hand over his bruised cheek, and something in your belly lurched at the reaction.

Tucking your fingers underneath his collar, you ripped slowly down. The tiny hairs on his body raised at the contact of both the low room temperature and the tips of your claws.

Gathering his wrists in one fist, you wrapped your other around the base of his bare neck. Every blood vessel throbbed in protest underneath your touch. You sat up, pulling him onto his knees. He grew rigid as his shoulders met with your broad chest.

The human’s body shook against you. You slipped over his shoulder and drew your forked tongue from his collarbone up to his jawline. You felt him swallow, and his fingers twitched from within your grip.

“Wh- what do you want,” the human slurred lowly, wobbling as you pulled him closer. Hot waves of dread rolled off of him. There was something more. You snaked your hand down to his stomach, his breath shuddering as your claws pierced through the dark fabric that shielded his softer areas.

“Just a taste, little thing,” you purred, your deep gravelly voice rumbling against his back. He shivered at that remark as he strained to glance back at you, unnerved. You could feel each of his slightest movements. He could hide nothing from you.

_Yes, look into my eyes. Look now, mammal._

You slipped your hand lower, then up and underneath the folds of his tunic, careful not to tear much of it. You did not intend to leave his clothing too mangled, robbing any dignity he possessed before his subordinates.

“My first human,” you smiled into his collar, slipping his pants down slowly. Warmth washed over your belly and your chest fluttered in excitement. “A very… _special_ one, at that.”

Kylo Ren grew tense as you rubbed circles down his hip with your leathery, scaled hand. “Please,” he whispered, half-heartedly.

“Be quiet,” You grumbled, digging your claws into his soft thigh. He yelped and nodded quickly, and you could feel his pulse quicken— as if it weren’t fast enough already. You aligned your hips with his, and a long, oily cock slipped out from your slit. It brushed against the man’s leg, drawing a sharp gasp from him. “No—“

“What did I _say_ ,” you hissed, nipping a patch of his neck between your teeth, this time drawing no blood. You felt amusement as a twinge of shame and curiosity hid beneath his large cloud of fear. He suppressed it, but it grew stronger with each of your actions.

Now seemed like an appropriate time. You worked a tendril slowly into his mind, and you were met with little resistance. The poor thing was too fatigued both mentally and physically to fight you in any which way. As you dug, you were met with confusion and conflict. There was anger, and a great deal of it, and this anger draped over so much. Beneath it all, however, was pain. There was vulnerability, desperation. With it all, a manifestation of great ability. There was power. It was what you felt initially in him.

You smirked at the revelation. That was all you needed at the moment. There was plenty of time to investigate. Instinct told you that your little rabbit had many secrets to keep, and that you were one in the same. He will be back.

Your human withered at the hot breath at his nape. Wandering back to your groin, your hand pumped down your length, coaxing it to full hardness. The tips of your fingers slipped down the layered ribs and knobs that lined your shaft seamlessly, sending warmth fluttering to your belly.

He groaned in protest when your fingers inched across his supple hip, squeezing lightly to hold him in place. Without indication of warning, you shoved your girth into him, halting at the base of your knot. The human yelped loudly, his muscles tensing with your rough and sudden thrust. You growled as he gripped your cock with an almost uncomfortable tightness, an apparently unintentional and fear-induced reaction.

Your plentiful self-lubrication allowed for ease with each thrust. Rather surprisingly, your victim began to moan in turn with your rhythm, albeit in what seemed to be pain. You quickened your pace, rocking your hips harder into his core, your ridges raking against his insides titillatingly.

Your human’s back arched and he whined as you pounded your length viciously into his core. The hand you had splayed across his groin was met with a dribble of moisture. The dirty creature could barely resist itself. Of course it could not. It was how all of them were— simple slaves to biological functions. He was no different, nevermind any “special” ability he may possess. Your claw drew lightly around the base of his member, to which he bucked his hips eagerly. You withdrew it, hand returning to his side. You would not allow him any extra indulgence. The human had done nothing to deserve it— no, all he had done was fight and deny his emotions on end. He was now helpless and yours to do as you so pleased.

Lapping up the tiny puddles of blood that gathered at the hold on his neck, small shockwaves of energy and enticement enveloped your extremities. You caressed his mind with medium, swooping waves. He relaxed onto your length, and you pushed in with short, quick thrusts. You heard and felt your human pant as you pump further into him, ravishing his now limp body. He pushes himself down onto your cock, but you dig your nails sharply into his groin, stopping him from knitting himself prematurely. You could clearly feel his excitement and desire now. It manifested in great rolling clouds.

Underneath your grip, the fair-skinned mammal twisted in pleasure. As your bucking became more erratic, the human’s behavior did not aid you in the slightest. He rolled his hips against your length deliberately, and you could not focus on holding him still. Your claws dug deep into his flesh, but his lust must have glazed over the pain you inflicted.

You pull out only for a moment before plunging back into him, your full length and now hardened knot filling him completely. You pound as deep as you are able, your thick base inhibiting the range of motion you had before. With one final thrust, climax overtakes you, and your cock contracted as it pumped viscous liquid into his belly.

He threw his head back, letting out a low, guttural moan as you released into him. His energy flowed outward, and you took whatever he had to offer. The feeling swelled in your chest, and buzzing tingles coursed in your mind. His long hair tickled your nose as it brushed your wet, maroon snout, strands sticking against it momentarily. Your grip on his hip softened as you huffed, exhausted. You pulled out, your cock drenched in a opaque sheen, leaving trails of your cum leaking down the human’s inner thigh.

You released the commander’s wrists, which were flushed and grazed underneath the torn fabric. He would have collapsed to the floor if you hadn’t thrown him down first. He thudded against the sleek metallic floor, groaning weakly. You rose to your feet as he lay there, submissive and vulnerable. You were done with him for now. While he did not move, his eyes followed you tiredly as you retreated to the darkest of the obtuse corners.

Tasting the leftover blood on your fingertips sent wonderful prickling sensations in your chest. You slunk to the floor, and while you required little sleep— especially now, after the great long sleep— your new experience left you with nothing else you would prefer in the moment. Your muscles were sore and the rippling pleasure of the iron and your climax brought lulls to rest. Before closing them, your eyes flicked to Kylo Ren. You need not take precautions now. You could rest easy in the detention cell knowing he was as defenseless as could be.

Your eyes shut before unconsciousness overtook you for the first time in many days. 


	5. Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A special guest begins an impromptu meeting before you awake from the much needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Vampirism/rape, panic attack, Satanic themes
> 
>  
> 
> [Ambient.](https://youtu.be/BwFa-w8h4oQ)

In your sleep, you met with a lesser Goat King, whose name you knew to be Teshiin. You did not like their visits, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to block them out.

Reminders of the side of you that you hated, it was. Reminders of the sneers and hushed mockery from your associates. You fought it fiercely, but there were some things you simply could not change.

When Teshiin or one of the others spoke to you in such a way, from within, you could not help feeling restrained and overtaken. Violated, as a victim may say. But you were no victim. You were a perpetrator, just as they were. Nothing would change that either. The screaming, unfiltered images flooded through, racking at your senses. But all were little more than a whisper.

He looked you over, patronizing pomp overflowing in those glassy, slanted eyes. Teshiin need not speak a single word. His unnerving presence was enough to bring across his broad message. Your lungs felt as if they burned with the disgusting sulfuric scent which radiated from the small figure. You were glad you never smelled half as bad as they did.

Teshiin would normally mock you with his morbid, gruesome threats. As much as you despised them, silence was far worse. His creeping, hunched form kept obscured as a dark mass, yet he hovered far above you, the black thorny vines cascading upward and outward. They constricted and cut violently at you body and time and space and all the energy in between. A sinking cold lapped at your chest, and had you not been paralyzed, you would have fought him— and failed.

You were pinned with unimaginable weight, yet what seemed to be nothing at all. The dry, splintered roots of Teshiin‘ tree of corruption sliced thought the ground and shot through the vessels of your body which carried each necessary fluid. The roots swelled and twisted and bubbled, threatening to tear your limp frame to strips of meat and hide and delicate membrane. You withered with the intrusion, your stomach churning and the pounding at your temples growing louder and louder. Bile gathered at your throat. The roots leeched at your spirit and drank greedily away as you struggled to grapple onto the universe’s pull. You became fainter and weaker without any chance of resistance. You grasped so desperately, but your lethargic mind could no longer obey your instinct.

The tendrils seeped back into the ground and returned to Teshiin, leaving your limbs feeling lifeless and raw from within. He gave a deep rumble of satisfaction and pride of his works.

You felt deep disgust, but found it not belonging to yourself. Indeed, the feeling was very much mutual, but the King would not allow direct insubordination, no matter how hard you tried to make him leave. The coward masqueraded behind his own darkness and control with great mastery and cunning. It was the deepest of blacks, like ink spilled on blank parchment. It consumed and spread in long, reaching bony fingers until ruin had been wrought. But that was not all. The table beneath the parchment would be stained, and your hands would be drenched as if they had been dipped across the event horizon of a spacetime singularity which leaked its endless midnight onto the already dark bleakness of deep space.

He was never fair.

The looming, chilled energy grew weaker and weaker until it was but a sliver. A sliver that clawed into your chest and into your mind, brushing your nerves with a searing edge. And with that, he was gone.

You regained your grip on your own body as you shivered to consciousness. Your eyes shot open, and to your relief, they met with the sleek metal walls of your cell. Your wobbling arms heaved yourself into your side as you took several shallow, shaken breaths. The splitting pain still rung in your ears, and your vision was unfocused. The world and the energy that bound it felt as if it was viewed through a pair of foggy glasses.

Unable to fully stand, you inched into your quadrupedal stance. The air which filled your lungs was crisp and sterile— a relief from the heavy, filthy sulfur in your sleep. Breathing was much less of a battle. You stretched, the tense muscles flexing underneath your thick scaled hide. Licking your chaps tiredly, you searched the room and spotted a huddled mass in one of the corners.

Just what you needed. The pads of your feet failed to silence the loud click of your claws after each step. You lumbered over to the mess of fabric that lay there, unmoving. Every limb ached with your locomotion, threatening to give in under you, but you persisted. Your tail dragged behind you, limp and lifeless against the steel floor.

Heat radiated from the curled body. Without even touching it, you could feel the uniformity of warmth that spread to a radius beyond the human itself. Your heavy, pained eyes dig into him as your thumb and forefinger slowly peeled back the soft black fabric he had wrapped around himself. Your hand shook involuntarily as you did so, unsteading your hold and allowing for only a glimpse of the disheveled raven hair that obscured the human’s pale face. Your stomach carved in at itself, prompting a raspy grunt from your throat.

The fabric was quickly yanked out between your fingers as a sharp kick was landed at your forearm. You winced and bit your tongue, withdrawing your sore limb quickly before pulling yourself several steps back. The figure jolted.

_“Get away from me.”_

“I am away,” you smirked, rising to your hindquarters. Your thighs seared as you struggled to shift your tail for balance. A phased, hollow pounding grew in tempo from inside your ears which spun your balance in every direction. You growled lowly and fought to suppress it.

“I thought you were done,” said the muffled voice, cracking near the end. He remained huddled, unmoving. There was no attempt to run, nor to defend from you. Deep reluctance, dread, was all there was.

You huffed, pushing yourself to your feet clumsily. The throbbing in your temples hammered in unison with the sudden vertigo, and the pain spread to your eyes while shooting up the nape of your neck.

“No,” you spat, growling. “You have not brought me food.” Your jaw ached as you spoke, voice even more hoarse than usual. The lower lid of your right eye twitched with fatigue.

“There is nothing for you,” you heard him say as your sense of hearing began to falter. The whisk of static in your ears filtered out more and more of your sharp auditory perception. Slowly, the rumbling that followed each excruciating throb overtook all other noises.

 _“I am hungry,”_ you bellowed, curling your fists so tightly, your claws began to dig into the sensitive flesh in between your scales. You glared at the human who hid himself with his tattered clothing. He did this to himself. If he is upset, you were not to blame for any of it. You didn’t ask to be a prisoner. No human should dare to take you hostage. This ridiculous misjudgement was always the failing of the horrid species. You deserved to be honored as a god, and they are to accept their place in the universe— as vermin, pests, an epidemic. Your mind surpasses their very understanding, and before you, they are less than a microbe.

The world spun erratically around you. You growled and hissed as you attempted to shake the feeling. Your most recent meal threatened at the end of your throat. “I… I am—“

You choked the last words out before the ringing blasted through your ears and into your mind, showing itself as a bright white flash. You fell to the side, face smacking hard against the steel floor.

 


	6. Flying Too Close to the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mouse should watch his step if he dare tread through the lion’s lair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: wow, none this time.
> 
> [Ambient.](https://youtu.be/jiriOfl8Duw)

The sleep came without dreams, without disturbance.

It lay with both arms outstretched, as if there were something ahead to grasp, strangle, between curled talons.

You dared not move a muscle. Surely the slightest of shudders would wake the beast that slept before you.

Its jaws were parted, exposing the rows of scarlet-stained fangs which had found their way around your flesh, teasing and nipping with pernicious enthusiasm. The deep bruising on the side of your face throbbed in thick numbness. You cautiously rubbed your sore cheek, then the punctures on your throat and wrists.

The blood had dried on each wound, leaving blackened scabs riddled over the surface. Gravity weighed down your weary limbs as you fought to shift into an upright position. You wrapped your torn cowl around you tightly as the chilly air grazed your exposed skin.

The creature, brooding in its unconsciousness, heaved in grumbled, unsteady rises and falls. The muted light reflected faintly onto the armor-like scales which covered nearly the entirety of its hide. These scales were larger and more fortified on the backs of its limbs and smaller around its face. A mane of dark dorsal spines lined its tail to the top of its head, where two long horns shot backward.

Its eyes were shut in a expression of discomfort, and while you couldn’t see them at the moment, the image of those golden skits burned into your memory like nothing else. They were large and predacious, boring though whatever they focused upon. One could lose themselves in that ghastly, glowing gaze.

You found yourself inching closer to the monster. Coolness radiated off of its body, as did a chilling aura which had since been dampened. You looked to its hands again— the same dry crimson crusted onto the tips of each nail. Those hands wrapped around your throat, your wrists, rough and assertive and remorseless. Claws snaked down your collar and across your hips, tips trailing with just the right pressure. They whipped you around effortlessly and threw you to the floor, then pulled you right back up just as quick. You were weightless in those hands.

You shivered, shame bubbling in your chest, and brushed away the matted hair that hung in your eyes. You looked to its snout, red still dribbling from the corners of its mouth. Blood— your blood. And the long forked tongue, which lapped it away from your wounds, not sparing a drop.

Sinking to your knees, you leaned in towards the creature. It may just be the only chance you would get to see it so close without being in imminent danger. Perhaps it could be a noble thing if it weren’t for such a violent, _exploitative_ nature.

With such regal features and unfaltering imposition, there was no doubt that this race could rival the admiration of any other in the Galaxy— especially with such sophisticated, foreign technology. An alliance could shift the entire playing board. The war could be won. Such a beautiful beast could change with enough _incentive_ , surely.

Your breath hitched in your throat. One hand found itself clutching tightly at the fabric which still covered your stomach, while the other reaches forward— outstretched towards his snout. Your gloves fingertips etched gently over the subtle ridges which preceded the stiff frill of spines between either horn.

The feeling was unexpected. Instead of a hardened plating, the facial scales were soft, smooth, and unusually delicate, even from the confines of the leather glove. You stroked the area again, now with all five fingertips, and again, watching carefully that the occasional flickers underneath his lids weren’t a sign of waking.

With each touch, the enrapturing pull consumed, offering more, more, more. You trailed a finger down, all the way to the tip of his snout, relishing in the thrill of moment.

A huffing grumble swept over him. You tore your hand from the creature, lurching back from where you had been kneeling.

You fell backward as he creeped to consciousness— slanted golden eyes fluttering open and pupils contracting in malign focus. A dark tendril lapped gently, leaving icy prickles which spread across your limbs like polar ocean waves.

The room grew colder than it had already been. You wanted to get up, to run, but you stayed where you were, staring up at the monster who resisted you without effort. It wasn’t your limbs that were frozen— rather, your mind failed to obey instinct. He stood before you, looking up and down as if he were inspecting a dismembered tauntaun for an evening roast.

Your breaths became shallow as his eyes widened and his jaws parted— an expression washed with contemplation. His mouth twisted into a snarl, pupils shrinking to two pairs of black slits. Outstretched claws flew toward you.

You shut your eyes, one hand shooting out to call your lightsaber, the other shielding your face. But death did not come— not even a brush of wind. Your hand trembled as you squeezed the saber in your fist, and you took several moments to finally open them.

_Huff huff huff._

The thing was amused. Its head was tilted in satisfaction, with eyes squinted as the corners of its mouth stretched menacingly from cheek to cheek in a toothy smirk.

You heard it from the back of your thoughts.

_Human. I am—_

“I know,” you stammered breathlessly, voice far more faint than you had expected. “I know.”

The creature exhaled deeply. The cold air blew past your cheek. You held your lightsaber close to your chest defensively, and its eyes followed. You were unsure what you were expected to do next. It noticed, as it did most things. Yet, it did not make the next move. It waited, that terrible sneer still lingering on its face.

“I will arrange for food. You’ll be fed… soon.”

Its ears pricked up at the new validation— jaws finally snapped together after a thick, lazy tongue grazed over its scaled lips. Though its expression because far more neutral, excitement could not be hidden in the pair of searching, hungry eyes.

“Leave,” it growled, the phasing, raspy voice vibrating though the environs. “Now.”

You let out a shaking breath you hadn’t heisted you had been holding. Tottering to your feet, you found yourself still looking up at the beast. If this were an elite, Stars know what the leaders of this race looked like.

You took a step back, spun, and staggered to the door as quickly as your legs allowed. Your hand slammed against the controls, and you collapsed just outside of the interrogation chamber. The collision with the durasteel floor of the hallway shot a sharp sting into your knees.

With a flick, you shut the door behind you. At least one thing for sure could stop the monster. Your arms dropped to the floor, and you lay there, heaving.

You could have lain there forever. You would have, but you had a job to do— not to mention the character assassination it would be to be found like this, bloodied as bruised and violated, by the likes of subordinates or worse— the general. That thing in there would never be satisfied until it had what it wanted. It always got what it wanted, it seemed. You weren’t ready to disappoint. Whatever fodder you could put together, you’d use. It was for the good of the war. You would need to start somewhere. Food is a start. You would feed it.

_  
Good boy. Soon your efforts will be rewarded._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to periguin! 
> 
> Well, that was quite the subversion of the Toothless moment. I hoped you all appreciated the POV change. Just like my other fic, spot the reference is a thing. So, if you can, I’ll give you a cookie. >_> We’re going to start playing the pronoun game too, so hold on to your butts.


	7. Thrill of the Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neglectance on the details does not make your words false— it only renders the questions inadequate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: none, just RC being a misanthropic ass.

_This one is beginning to learn to follow orders._

The smell of fresh meat filled your lungs from beyond the blast door. The sweet undertones of the hemoglobin drenched muscle jumpstarted your viscous salivation. It dripped through your teeth and down your jawline. You did not bother to wipe it up— you would make a greater mess of yourself soon enough.

Your human had returned— with a new set of clothing too. It was the same as the last. The stupid thing did not learn. Measly cloth was so easy to rip through with talons like yours. Either that, or he was simply stubborn— just as you had heard regarding the species countless times before.

Both of your predictions were entirely probable.

He set the large tray on the floor. Though you could not see the contents as it had been covered with foil, the scent was easily distinguishable. You had to admit, it did not smell nearly as appetizing as human flesh, but it would certainly do. This time, your stomach betrayed your typical selectiveness.

As you slunk over to the tray, your human backed away, allowing a safe distance between the two of you. Peeling the foil from the seemingly cooked slices of mammalian muscle and bone, you began to inspect the food. You tore a piece from one of the steaks. The inside still retained a pinkish hue. At least it had not been completely ruined.

The meat was still too chewy for your tastes. You could not see why anything would want to cook meat. Even with your sharp canines, gnawing at the tough flesh was a chore. It should be even harder for a flat-toothed human. You should not need to work your jaws further on a creature that is already dead. The typical thrill was diminished. A low, faint buzz down your throat was what remained. Despite it all, you would take what you could get.

Periodically, you would flash your gaze away from the less-than-satisfactory steak to Kylo Ren. He watched with great intent though he kept his face hidden. His head tilted slightly and his focus did not break. Again, the point of wearing the mask around you escaped your grasp. There was no need for it, especially as this was clear now. You already knew how to get it off. The unignited plasma sword he held vigilantly would not be a problem so long as you were strategic. And you would, but you had not mustered enough desire to make an attempt today. There was not much left to hide either. You had heard his unaltered voice, seen his face— perfectly collected one minute, then bruised and disheveled the next. He was ridiculously easy to read too. You were never intimidated by the human for a second. Not a single reason to wear it remained. There was simply no logical reason, but humans are not exactly logical creatures. You would just need to settle with that ultimate conclusion.

The smoky, earthy flavor lingered on your tongue as you stripped the remaining chunks of muscle from the final bone. It was remarkably bovine. The similarity in taste was rather uncanny— like an exotic variant of cattle, it seemed. Perhaps you could see the living animal in the future. It would surely taste phenomenal raw. Of course, that would have to come after your escape— or release— however the future would unfold, for it was unclear at the moment.

You had stripped each bone bare of its flesh. Discarding them to the side, you lapped the tray clean of the remaining myoglobin which had leaked from the muscle tissue onto its surface. It would satisfy you for now. You shifted onto your hindquarters, resting your forearms over the tops of your thighs. Your tail curled promptly around your crouching figure, dragging slowly and heavily across the cold, metallic floor.

Huffing twice, you locked what would have been eye contact with the human commander. He was quiet, watching intently right back. He was too quiet, for too long. “You had questions for me,” you said gruffly, eyeing the human impatiently.

“I do,” he stated under the rumble of the modulator. He said no more, and only watched. You bit your tongue, frustration bubbling at the time he insisted upon wasting with foolhardy sheepishness.

Delivering a blunt, quick blow with a single tendril, you shot to your feet. The human stumbled backward with your sudden intrusion, emitting something between a hiss and a whine. Even a delicate attack was effective if he was without preparation. You huffed again as he began to collect himself again. “Ask them.”

Appropriately, the human spared little hesitation this time. He shifted, assuming what you guessed to be the most confidence he could muster. “Why are you here?”

You ran a hand through the thick mane of dorsal spines lining your neck and scoffed at the seemingly obvious inquiry. “Your people _put_ me here. This should be obvious.”

“No,” he continued. “What where you doing near our borders?” He did not find your perpetual disdain particularly amusing, now that he expected business solely.

“I was given no indication that there were borders being infringed upon to begin with. This is not my galaxy. Even so, your little lines in the sand are meaningless to us.”

The human’s fists clenched as you inclined your head, slurring the final syllables of the foreign language. It didn’t take long to master it— for a simple probe into cerebral cortex reveals everything regarding comprehension, articulation, and production. From there, it is simple to absorb the provided information and replicate as a native speaker would.

“ _Us_. Who is _us_?”

You eyed him for a moment in contemplation. “The Agenda,” you growled plainly. “Of which I am an Elite.” You were not ready to lead a complete exposé on your own government. He would have to formulate the right questions, while you delivered an occasional malicious compliance.

“Did they send you here? How were you even able to come to this galaxy? Every attempt in history has been a failure,” he asked, curiosity in his tone.

“Yes, they did. Our technology is far superior to yours,” you huffed amusedly. It was only the truth.

“How does it work— your ship?”

“Oh,” you huffed again. “You wouldn’t understand it… and I dare not waste my breath attempting to explain what would be incomprehensible to you.”

Your words were nothing short of infuriating to the human— you could feel it. “My best men have been trying to reverse engineer your equipment from the moment you were taken into custody,” he seethed. Yet, his boasting did not faze you.

“They can try all they want,” you bellowed. “It’s none of my concern if they radiate themselves to death! Frail little creatures...”

When he hesitated to formulate an adequate response, you pushed on. “Give me my ship back, and I can call forth our engineers. They will bring with them a few battalions, and we will eradicate your entire species.” Lurching towards him, you hissed tauntingly while reaching a claw out beside his shoulder. “Would you like that, _little thing_?”

“Enough,” he barked, a fist curling around the crossguard hilt. You growled smugly at his reaction, a clearly aggravated one. “What is your purpose here?”

“My purpose,” you repeated. “...is one of infiltration. I am… gathering _information_.” You felt contempt in the curt reply.

“Information on what, exactly?”

It occurred to you that he would not quickly buy your avoidant tactics, especially while being already frustrated. “General information, as an Agenda goal— documentation.”

“I’ll need to debrief with my officers,” the commander said after several more moments of contemplation. There was an uncertainty in his voice, even behind the modulator. He was in desperate need of preparation, you presumed. So eager, yet the time felt cut short, so to say. You felt almost as if you had learned more of him than he did of you today. That was nothing to complain about, of course. You always enjoyed the mantra of knowing one’s enemy.

“Come again soon,” you teased as your human swiftly exited the cell. His entrances and exits were often so dramatic, you observed. How these lesser beings regarded themselves with such seriousness— it was tirelessly amusing. Being the king of your tidepool makes one no ruler of the sea, and he was just about to discover a whole new depth to these waters. If only he recognized your superiority with haste rather than hesitance. The ordeal would be finished so much sooner. Perhaps more of their lives could be spared. But what fun is the kill without a chase? A chase that did not last too long, that is. You preferred to stay on schedule.

“...and do not waste my time.”


End file.
